Sleeping at Last
by sand-between-our-toes
Summary: A Pythacarus onshot. Pythagoras x Icarus. Only Pythagoras would ever really see him.


Sleeping at Last

Everywhere was silent. The city slept under the comfort of the black velvet sky, the pinpricks of stars glowing softly.

Pythagoras approached the workshop quietly, unsure whether anyone was still awake. He rather liked staying here since Hercules could no longer stand anyone's company, his grief for Medusa had consumed him and nothing Pythagoras said or did could help. He felt a pang of guilt then because maybe he could have done things differently, but in the end he knew; it had been Medusa's choice to sacrifice herself. One day Hercules would understand that none of them wanted this but it was the only way.

He pushed the door gently and fumbled around to close the latch. He dared not rouse Daedalus he had such a mighty temper. And in fact Pythagoras had become concerned lately that his fury had marked Icarus not just emotionally but physically. Icarus had become a little less lively, a little less _him _and everyday he withdrew a little more, no longer sharing that beautiful smile that was like sunshine breaking through clouds.

Pythagoras trailed his hand across the walls as he walked through to the main room, his fingers rising and falling gently over the uneven surface. He still marvelled at the spinning discs and contraptions which surrounded him. The workshop was truly a place of magic and fantasy which for his logical mind excited and scared him in equal measure.

As Pythagoras rounded the corner suddenly all the breath from him went. Because resting across the table, was an angel.

In the dim light from the dying candle, its wings seemed to ripple almost as if waiting for a catching wind to take flight. Pythagoras stared wide eyed and frozen at Icarus. He had never looked more beautiful and Pythagoras almost wished that Icarus would never wake up. And he'd be happy to stand here forever watching the soft rise and fall of his breathing, the peaceful shallow smile on his face as he escaped into the safety of the night and the wings that glowed softer than a gentle moon.

Pythagoras slowly lowered his bag to the floor not taking his gaze away. How could he describe what he saw before him? It was an equation he would never be able to work out. He couldn't explain to himself what he felt whenever he was near Icarus. It was like the moment just before a wave crashes or the warmth of the sun on your face or...or...

He finally took a step towards the table after feeling like a statue suspended in time. Pythagoras reached the chair which was beside Icarus and slowly sat down. He smiled at the contentment on Icarus' face and wished he could always see him this peaceful.

The candle was almost out and so Pythagoras pulled another one across the table and lit it with the dying flame. At once yellow light like a midsummer sun danced and flickered across Icarus' face. His hand was lying on a piece of parchment filled corner to corner with pictures of feathers and wings.

Pythagoras dared to reach out to him though he was so afraid he'd wake and he gently brushed his curly hair aside from his forehead. Pythagoras smiled at Icarus like he was the only person on Earth.

How long could he sit here with him? What would Daedalus think if he found them both asleep at the table? He would think they were foolish, had too much to drink, he would never think that Pythagoras had simply wanted to be beside him for as long as possible because...

Because? Because even though they never said it, whatever they had between them they had both felt it, this unspoken word. It was in every touch, every hug, every time their eyes lit up just seeing each other. Icarus had slowly become his World.

As dawn broke, and the sunlight made tiny dancers of the dust swirling by the window, Icarus stirred. His arm had begun to cramp where his head had laid on it. As his eyes adjusted to the light he realised how long he had been asleep and he saw Pythagoras resting his head on the table beside him. Icarus grinned softly at his peaceful face and tentatively reached out to brush his hair aside.

Pythagoras was the best person he had ever known. He never judged his dreams, never said a cruel word, never showed him anything but kindness and friendship both things lacking in Icarus' life.

No one would think how a mathematician and a dreamer could become the best of friends the best of...but they did because they were more than what others deemed them to be.

Daedalus thought his son a fool, a dreamer, naïve and careless. People would pass Icarus by, could spare no time for him and his childish excitement, he was just a shadow to his fathers inventions.

No one saw his heart. No one saw his loyalty, his bravery. No one saw his wings. Only Pythagoras. He had slowly become his World.

Icarus looked at him wishing the dawn could reverse. But that's one thing even Icarus knew he could never do.

Pythagoras slowly flickered his eyes open at the soft touch as Icarus work roughened hand touched his face.

"Hey", he said sleepily, a smile waking on his lips.

"Hey," Icarus replied, the sun breaking through the clouds.

And they looked at each other then, the unspoken word, though silent, hung in the air as their hearts hammered and their eyes locked and their smiles faded as slowly, slowly -

Thump thump thump down the stairs Daedalus stomped and Icarus and Pythagoras broke their gaze, the silent word would have to wait for another day.


End file.
